"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. “If you really are going to wait, make yourself as comfortable as you can.
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